


Dutiful Familiar

by Ooze



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 08:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17158712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ooze/pseuds/Ooze
Summary: Facing the danger head on results in an injury that could do with a little added compassion and care, even if it's unwanted.





	Dutiful Familiar

**Author's Note:**

> Until canon proves otherwise, Shadow's female and V is her warlock cub.

Them against the world, so it seemed. With a ferocity unrivaled and loyalty unequaled, time and time again without fail did the demon respond to its master's call, stirred into action by his command—though sometimes acting out of turn when a threat was imminent and he was too blind to see it. But there was nary a reproof issued as consequence for that. Protecting him was key, and they were  _both_  bound to laying down their lives to do it. Griffon followed through with a chafing attitude and a grating tongue; V let it slide. He was tolerant. Shadow, however, silent and seemingly lacking sapience in her ways, served the cause with such a dedication that would have spoken against her origins. While it was true that she was bound to bondage, as they all were, she hadn't once acted in protest, hadn't once defied her master in opposition to his favor, his well-being. She understood though she could not speak in his tongue; she felt though she'd come into being a force of darkness, supposedly heartless and hollow. Hard to really look into her eyes to figure her out. If even V failed at this, then all others would. But he knew her to be furthest from a dumb brute, and so she was unlike any other demon he'd come across: s _uperior_ , worthy of his respect.

Of course, as with all things, there had to have developed some... attachment. One does not walk through the fires of hell in company only to spurn said companions at the end of the road. Perhaps it was excessive, unnecessary, edging on fatuous. A beating heart was hard to ignore and harder still to conquer. Such a thing had driven Shadow to tail her master—to _tail_ him, not walk alongside him as she was wont to do. A deviation in behavior this significant had doubtlessly caught the keen eye of the talkative demon that should have kept his beak shut more than he'd ever allow it. Things were gliding along relatively well before he decided to instigate that which was sorely unneeded at present. His voice shattered what remained of the party's silence, and the words he spewed with unbelievable ease had borne upon Shadow a pair of inquiring green eyes. She withheld the temptation to censure that damned bird with the bellow that burned in her gullet for freedom. Her eyes, however, were chiseled into daggers and sparked alight with momentary animosity toward her feathered fellow.

When the group paused, she stilled in her tracks a fair few feet behind.

“See?” Griffon pressed, urging their master's attention. “Something's up with her.”

As much as Shadow would have enjoyed threatening that demon into silence, she was fully aware that he'd done the just thing. She might have attempted oh-so-bravely to hide it from them, but something gone amiss could not stay hidden for long. Least of all in the heat of battle, when it would show and _cost_ them all. At the sound of her master's voice, inquisitively pronouncing her name, she blinked her magenta eyes away from Griffon to pay heed to the man who doubtless had more on his mind to share. A measured pant was all she'd responded with, but, then, she'd been panting prior to all this unwanted attention.

“She doesn't look too hot, V. I think that last bout did it to her.”

Did _what_? Wear her down? Shadow glanced back and forth between the two eyeing her, a deeply unsettling thing that invited the fur along her spine and shoulders to bristle. Still she did not move, neither forward nor back. Supporting all of her own weight was a task in itself now, however, and she found she needed to take the burden off at least in part. Down upon her haunches she sat, giving herself away all the more in surest spite of her reluctance to do anything of the kind.

“I see. She's spent,” observed her master in a mild note, tone edging on apathetic. Rather than be satisfied with this, he approached his dutiful familiar as if to ascertain the fact—if he could get to it. Oh, how the feline's breathing caught itself up in her throat; for a moment she appeared statuesque, every muscle pulled taut beneath her pelt of deepest black.

No fear of him, not of his wrath or his cane or any censure. Maybe she'd put it out of her mind. Nevertheless, she sat in submission. Her jaw had drawn itself up, closing her mouth for the first minute V brought himself to one knee to examine her. It wasn't without its struggle and, of course, Shadow was mindful of his physical inhibitions. While she'd harbored not an ounce of hostility toward him, she'd greatly abhorred the things which rendered him so puny. He had no need to do this now, to inconvenience himself to excess, to agitate his… whatever was wrong with his body. She hadn't known it the way he did; she only knew he was weak, pained when he moved in certain ways, and it was up to her to limit the amount of bother he had to go through. What a crying _shame_ Griffon had to make noise.

Her tail flicked left, then right, then curled. Whatever she was going through now could not have amounted in the least to her master's burden, and yet here she subjected him to an added concern he needn't deal with. All of it Griffon's fault. The fiend took to the asphalt underfoot, standing quietly _finally_ while he observed what transpired. Shadow could not grant herself the luxury of throwing her magenta daggers at him, but to view him along the periphery of her vision would have to suffice. Privately, she scorned him. None of it bled through her outward appearance, fortunately. Whatever tension she'd experienced, or tried to quell, was made vividly known the very moment her master's fingers were brought to bear upon her shoulder. Not affection. Those digits roamed searchingly as they swept across jet black, and though his touch was soft it elicited a volatile reaction from a demon thus far composed and perfectly tame. Pupils dilated, ears flattened against her crown, she flashed her teeth and out came a snarl. That had no business reaching her master's ears! She knew it instantly; she chided herself as she shrank away with her lips peeled back, reeling in what might have been shame and residual aggression, yet in renewed submission she lowered her head and avoided V's eyes. However, _he_ did not pull back. Withdrew his hand, yes, but failed to budge an inch in retreat. A frown came to possess his countenance. For a moment he looked at his fingers suddenly dampened—blood left them slick, now sticky from the wind that blew. A fresh flow of the stuff, too dark in hue and too thick in body to be anyone's but Shadow's. V had seen her bleed before; to draw her blood was all but impossible. He might not have come to look so sullen if his familiars had not engaged in raucous conflict thirty to forty minutes ago. Shadow's wounds, he knew, would have healed themselves in plenty of time already.

“She's wounded,” he rasped with finality. He reached over to prod at the injury, and lo and behold he found what was but a simple gash etched along the length of the upper foreleg. It bled even now, and the flash of biting pain that came with so harmless a graze prompted every muscle to tighten. The deepest, lowest groan reverberated well within Shadow's rib cage. She wanted the fingers off, the touching stopped, the attention stolen. Insubordination followed: the demon recoiled, now removing herself altogether from the spot she'd occupied. Like a startled kitten she sprang up awkwardly and withdrew the whole of her body, ears flattened and snarl persisting, eyes watching only the lower half of V's body. Off a good three feet away, Shadow watched her master, now primed to reject him further and bolt if he tried again. No fault of his, but she _loathed_ this.

She found no pleasure in being treated like a liability. She had no liking for being the center of attention. V's frown loyally stuck to his face, and even after he rose to nearly his full height (he stooped on account of the cane he leaned on, understandably) amid the grimaces to come with it, he looked as though he'd been displeased in some fashion. A sigh slithered past his teeth, his eyes solidly set upon a pair of magenta that dared to flick upward. Shadow did not retreat this time but relaxed at how _deflated_ her master appeared before her. With her damaged leg she supported herself, putting equally divided pressure upon that limb in spite of the flames nibbling at the broken skin and muscle, and well around the perimeter of her injury. Nothing apart from a general reluctance to go on was visible about her, and she boldly held herself up without any grimace of her own. Any meekness previously seen had been replaced by composure; teeth were concealed now, ears pricked up and erect, back straightened save for the subtlest curve on the off chance she had to spring away again. She'd behaved so much more like a feline than a demon. One might mistake her for the former, though the eyes were too unnatural to dismiss. Regardless, she wasn't in any mood to be coddled, and she'd noted her master wasn't in any of his own to put up with delays and setbacks. She would have gone on as she was, the wound would have closed soon enough. She hadn't the luxury to dote on herself, but it seemed that which she refused to do was easier afforded by her master and his avian familiar.

While the end of her tail snapped back and forth, V's gaze slid toward Griffon. He spoke in a questioning tone, his expression largely deadpan and unreadable. He'd mentioned something about poison, the syllables uttered dripping with uncertainty, to which the feathered fiend replied in such a way that proved unsatisfactory given their master's facial expression. The words were, “I don't know, you're the warlock. You and that grimoire have got all the answers.” Whatever that meant.

“I don't—and it's not a grimoire,” V countered, faintly irritated with Griffon for the duration he'd spoken. His inquiring eyes were on Shadow once more, and it was then that he stepped forward in approach. “Poisoning could explain why it's taking so long to heal. She's in pain, and while she's out here she won't recuperate any time soon. Shadow,” continued he, now directly addressing the demon who'd so far watched him with signature devotion, “I need you in top form. We won't get far with you like this.” He depended upon her heavily, even in spite of the impassive manner in which he reasoned with her. There was something akin to hopelessness in his tone, and about him hung an air sympathetic, pleading, and seeking sympathy in turn as if he appealed to her good nature albeit knowing her to be of strong will despite her subservient circumstances. V closed the distance between himself and his familiar, visibly resolute though he'd dropped the frown from earlier. He required her to rejoin the shadows, to return to him—there was nothing ambiguous about that. A command the feline understood simply from tone and stance alone. Ordinarily, V needn't _tell_ her, and neither had he been necessitated to sound out for her aid. Nevertheless, he appeared to make clear what must be done. It was for her own good as much as his own, and this she understood as well (as much as it was to her dislike).

But she was needed out here, right now, and in fact had only sustained injury _because_ she'd seen her duty done. Her master needed guarding, preserving, and she saw to that end with her life. The demons in opposition grew in their numbers, they stood against V and his familiars with increasing frequency. All of this spelled _peril_ , a thing Shadow was strongly against having V exposed to. But for all of her tenacity, she still lived beneath the man's whims. Whatever he wished would rule in the end. Such was the nature of their bond. Shadow, Griffon, and Nightmare would protect him as far as he would allow. And while he'd decided on sending her back into reserve, partly for his own benefit, she would not shake the impression it left upon her; that she was being coddled after all, accommodated specially for. Treated like a house cat, ultimately, and that had to be the most souring of all. Shadow hated feeling like a _pet_ when she was anything but, and the way her master rubbed at her crown with lazy digits reinforced the feeling. Tried to encourage her he did, but done in the least gratifying way.

It was odd that he felt compelled to stroke her at all. Their master was hardly affectionate. But, lo, he broke the mold and in doing so provoked a snappy response from the other familiar among them. A complaint, a whine gone ignored. Shadow had no need for a gesture of tenderness; so caught up in her own world, she'd disregarded how her jaws parted to welcome back the panting, and she'd been mindless toward the elevation in her body temperature which V had made himself privy to. Without added direction she withdrew from him, withdrew from the land, sank into the shadows to become one with the art adorning the warlock's body. A robust demon, she'd be fine in time. Those that dared to envenom her had already paid the price, but now V must content himself with the others that would come— _and_ Griffon's company.

A sigh preceded a snide reminder. “She faces the danger head on, but you? You attack from a distance, you're hardly touched. I doubt I'd find a feather on you gone astray.” Green eyes narrowed at the raptor still grounded, but he'd pulled himself into the air at his master's remark.

“How is that my fault?!”

“As I recall, she was struck defending me while _you_ were up in the air and out of harm's way.”

“Listen up. Bad timing, all right? I pull my weight as much as Shadow does! You're not gonna pin this one on me, V.”

How amusing. It tugged a smirk out of the boredom on V's countenance. Languid steps were taken toward Griffon, their path started on once more. Shadow would rejoin them in due time. Perhaps then she'd have a chance at retribution and pluck a tail feather.


End file.
